After A World Series Championship Faded, Jackie Hernandez Found A New Life Teaching The Game

Jackie Hernández spent his post-big-league career helping to drive a new generation towards baseball prosperity. Hernandez, the starting shortstop for 1971 World Series Champion Pittsburgh Pirates, died October 12, 2019, in Miami, Florida according to his teammate Manny Sanguillen. He was 79.

Jacinto Hernández Zulueta was born on September 11, 1940, in Central Tinguaro, Cuba, within the province of Matanzas. He seasoned his chops as a rookie with Almendares during the final season of the Cuban Winter League in 1960-61. Stuck on the reserve list, Hernández didn't get into any action but made a connection that led to his professional career in the United States.

Hernández left Cuba in February 1961 for the United States via Mexico due to the efforts of Almendares general manager Monchy de Arcos. He was the Cleveland Indians chief scout in Cuba and secured Hernández a spot within their organization. With de Arcos' assist, he bravely embarked on a 16-year professional baseball career.

After one year as a catcher in the minors, Indians scout Hoot Evers noticed Hernández's live arm and urged him to try shortstop. By 1965, Hernández made the full conversion to an infielder; however, he was no longer in the Indians' long-term plans. They released him a month into the 1965 season. The California Angels quickly snatched up his contract, and by September, he was a major leaguer.

Hernández searched for a landing spot after playing with the Angels for two seasons. In 1967 he was traded to the Minnesota Twins, where he played two more years before the Kansas City Royals drafted him for their inaugural 1969 campaign. Given a chance to play full time, he posted career highs in almost every offensive category.

In 1971, a trade to the Pirates presented Hernández with a career-changing opportunity. After an early-season injury to Gene Alley, skipper Danny Murtaugh tabbed the Cuban gloveman as his starter. A surprised Baltimore Orioles manager Earl Weaver proclaimed, "The Pirates can't win the pennant with Hernandez at shortstop." Little did the future Hall of Famer realize the folly he just made.

While the Pirates battled for the National League pennant, Hernández made history on September 1, 1971, when Murtaugh turned in his lineup card. The entire squad on the field was either Black or Latino. During the 2016 SABR Conference in Miami, Hernández shared how special he felt to be a part of that moment.

"To play in the all-Negro lineup, that was great for me," Hernández said. "I will never forget that. I never think that will happen again, a whole lineup of Blacks and Latins. That goes with me for life."

Hernández played a flawless shortstop for the Pirates in the 1971 World Series, safely handling all 24 chances in seven games, including the final out of the series. He stayed with the Pirates for another two seasons, filling a reserve role at shortstop and third base through 1973.

He finished playing professionally in 1977, but Hernández stayed active in the game, never really putting his glove away. During this second chapter of his career, he made a profound impact by coaching at the youth and professional levels. In 2001, Adam Capodieci was under Hernández's tutelage with the New Jersey Jackals. He recalled his penchant for working tirelessly to the team develop.

"He was awesome all the way around," Capodieci said via telephone. "He would throw [batting practice] for hours early if we needed it, or after [the game]. He was always willing to get extra work in with us."

Hernández's flair was a sharp contrast to their manager's quiet demeanor, a trait Capodieci said kept the team loose during a long independent league season.

"He was silly and goofy, always having jokes with us," he said. "In batting practice, if he would jam one of us or break one of our bats, in his crazy voice with his Cuban accent he would say, 'I got right in your kitchen baby!'"

Fellow Cuban and ex-Pirate Cholly Naranjo introduced me to Hernández in 2009. When Naranjo first returned to Florida from Cuba in the early 1990s, Paul Casanova and Hernández visited to share their gratitude for how he treated them as reserves on the club. It was a story they all enjoyed telling, one that gave me a keen perspective on how Hernandez kept a close sense of family.

"They said I was the only one who treated them well [as reserves] and they said they never forgot it," said Naranjo via telephone shortly after Hernández's death. "It was an incredible feeling for an old ballplayer who had been away so long."

Standing with a bat in my hands at Casanova's backyard training center, I quickly learned why his coaching was revered. Everyone there flocked to him. He took me under his wing as if he saw a glimpse of big-league potential. After some tinkering and encouragement, my bat was a line drive machine. At the end of the evening, he was covered in sweat after flipping hundreds of soft-tosses and multiple batting practice rounds. He looked at my blistered hands, smiled, and said, "That's why we're here."

I visited Hernández multiple times per year and we shared long hours talking baseball while trying to fix my fading swing. We last met in 2017 at the MLB All-Star FanFest, as Major League Baseball honored Hernández along with a multitude of Cuban legends for their contributions to the sport. We caught up on life's travels both before and after the event. Just like the late Casanova, he left me with the same line every time.

"We miss you; when are you coming back?" he asked. "If you need anything, you have my number."

That was Jackie. He cared deeply about his players, no matter if they were in the big leagues or the bush leagues. Most fans recognized him as a World Series Champion, but he most relished his role of inspiring young talent to reach for greatness.